


Home for the Holidays

by misreall



Series: Loki And Nora's Infinity Stone Playlist [16]
Category: Loki: Agent of Asgard, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: AU, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, F/M, Kissing, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Oral Sex, Romance, Sex, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-18 12:51:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16995324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misreall/pseuds/misreall
Summary: Loki and Nora, finally back in Chicago, decide to throw a Christmas party.For readers of this series, this story takes place after Sanctification.





	1. Before

**Author's Note:**

> Story written for River's Holiday Marvel Challenge on Tumblr and is posted there as well. 
> 
> The version here will probably have a second, more romantic/naughty chapter, so be prepared/warned.

Nora was nervous.  

Loki thought it was adorable.  

Her little, green, kitten-heeled shoes tapped here to there in their home, across the polished wooden floors, as she made sure everything was as it should be before their party commenced.  

She kept going into the kitchen to check on how things were progressing, even though their beloved Mrs. Beekman had come out of retirement and flown to Chicago from Devon to supervise matters herself.  Everything smelled magnificent, from the standing rib roast to the tiniest potato pancakes dabbed with bits of gravlax and creme fraiche and dill.

Loki looked longingly at the mountain of Kaluga Huso Hybrid caviar and then at Mrs. Beekman’s stern eye and decided to behave himself for his former housekeeper’s sake if for no other reason.

After, Nora would follow Charles from room to room, checking on his always superlative preparations.  

Only a creature as preternaturally patient as their impeccable manservant would not get annoyed, Loki thought to himself, smiling, as he followed Nora following Charles through their beautiful, impeccably perfect home.  

Each public room was festooned with seasonal swags of greenery - evergreens scenting the air with deep pine and bracing juniper - all touched with bright holly.  Loki had personally vetoed the mistletoe, less for the unpleasant memories and more in anticipation of all of the dreadful jokes Stark would make at the sight of it.

The hearths were lit and blazing merrily, as were the dozens of candles that had been dotted about penthouse.  That had been his personal job. The pillars of gold and green would burn for as long as he required, be it for a night or a year.  

The bartenders were finishing their set up in the library.

The tree - hung with Tiffany crystal, handmade wooden ornaments from Germany shaped like foxes, angels, and crows, blue flowers picked on Vanaheim then preserved forever with undying ice so they threw off a gentle glow, strings of beads made from gold stolen from Asgard’s vaults, silver spiderwebs from the Ukraine, strings of purple, gold, and green lights bought at a tacky tourist store in the French Quarter, Belleek harps sent from Nora’s cousin Maura, lacquered eggs from Baba Yaga (some of which hatched into tiny beings, both benign and not so much), tiny, straw goats that Thor had picked up in Sweden, and the old, faded glass baubles from the tree his wife had grown up with - was glorious even by Loki’s own, rather exalted standards.

The jazz combo was tuning up in the main room.  The legendary Bartholomew Kincaid and Edie Jones would be joining them at some point in the night for a few songs.  And, knowing them, some of their old workmates from CDV would end up singing some drunken, late night live band karaoke with them as well.

Marissa and Dre, probably, and Kelsey as well, if they were unlucky.  Very unlucky.

Thor - ever the first to arrive and the last to leave any party - was ensconced in the guest room with an X-Box and a vat of mulled wine.  He’d done his part earlier, decorating the outside of their home - the grand 999 Lake Shore Drive building - flying from roof to ground and back again with the magical garlands Loki had created for the occasion.  

Even the generally contrary and recalcitrant weather of Chicago was complying with Nora’s wishes, as soft, fluffy snow fell gently out on the park and the Lake, creating a picturesque backdrop outside of the panorama windows.  

And yet Nora stood, turning from side to side in the foyer, trying to find something to fuss over or fix.  

Loki leaned in the doorway to the library, smiling at her.  Nora was not a fretter, and her idea of party prep was normally a few cases of good beer, some cheap whiskey, and snacks from the Jewel, followed by a belated pizza order.  But he knew she wanted everything to be perfect tonight.

For him.

Knowing that he hated, in no particular order, Christmas, the Avengers, the Warriors Three, and not having his wife’s undivided attention, and that all of these things would be invading their home - along with their friends and lots of food and liquor, all which he did like, but all of which together could make Loki a little dangerously whimsical - she was nervous.

The Yule season  _ had  _ always been special for them as a couple, he thought, looking with special fondness at the black velvet couch in the living room as he followed in Nora’s wake.

This was the first Christmas they had been able to spend  _ publically _ on Earth, and the first holiday season since all of their recent Thanos tribulation had been resolved.  For his actions and sacrifices in the taking down of the Titan, Loki had been embraced by Midgard, which meant Nora could come home openly now and he knew that it meant a great deal to his treasure to celebrate.  

So did he, actually.  They had been busy months since the undoing of Thanos’s snap, and for the first time Loki could breathe and let himself appreciate and revel in the joy of Nora’s restoration.

Not that she knew she had been restored.  Like most of the Titan’s victims she knew something had happened, but not what.  

He and his brother vowed that it would stay that way.

Of course, Thor didn’t remember either…

Loki pushed those thoughts away.  

So now he just happily watched Nora worrying that he would get upset because Steve Rogers and Sif were eating all of the crab dip, and that Mr. Choe and Natasha would start a craps game in the guest bedroom, knowing that nothing could upset him tonight.  Because she was alive to worry about him.

He had always both preened under and been humbled by her care of him.  But now… now he was only grateful.

“Nora,” he said, sliding over to her, wrapping an arm around her velvet covered waist, “everything is as perfect as you.”

She rolled her eyes at him, “That’s what I’m afraid of, you ass.”

She wore the old, green cocktail dress of her Aunt’s that she had worn on their first Christmas together and had no idea how wonderful she was.  He had worn her favorite black suit, even though he had newer ones he cared for more.

“Dance with me,” he commanded.  “Please,” he whispered, kissing her temple.

“I- what?”  She frowned at him, her stubborn chin jutting a bit, her head cocked in irritation, “Not now, I have things to-”

Loki spun her, and the combo suddenly felt a compulsion to play a very sultry, slow version of  _ Merry Christmas, Baby _ .  

Nora laughed.  A light snort, and then a full, rich laugh, spinning back into his arms.  

Loki pulled her against him, wrapped close, so they swayed and she sang close into his ear.  

_ I feel mighty fine, y'all _

_ I've got music on my radio _

_ Feel mighty fine, boy, _

_ I've got music on my radio, oh, oh, oh _

_ I feel like I'm gonna kiss you _

_ Standing beneath that mistletoe _

 

His eyes closed and he nuzzled her coffee dark hair and felt her warmth and breathed in her scent, his lips just barely tracing her neck.

She sighed and loosened against him.  He held her closer, his hands spreading wide to touch as much as he could, feeling the life of her, the joy of her being.  Of her just being. Of their being.

“Can we cancel?” he murmured.  “I can think of so many better plans-”

The doorbell rang.

Loki sighed.

Nora stepped back, straightening her dress, and then his tie, smiling and her eyes so bright, “Wait, did you spike the eggnog?”

Loki smiled, kissing her very softly, knowing it would make her crazy.  “Treasure, please,” he said, whilst simultaneously using a bit of magic to pour an obscene amount of rum into the punch bowl that sat on the dining room table and turning her so she could not see it happening, “how could I forget the only thing you asked me to do?”


	2. After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Nora's Christmas party is ends and they spend some time by the tree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas to all of my beautiful readers.

The last guest to leave was Thor.

Of course.

Her brother-in-law wasn’t just the crown prince of Asgard, he was the king of last call.  

He had lingered briefly after the second to last guest had left - Baba Yaga who was going to an all night poker game in Hyde Park that Loretta had invited her to, saying she’d never taken a white lady’s money before but she was sure looking forward to it.  It had only gently annoyed Loki that his brother had drunk one last stein of tequila before hugging them both roughly, tears in his blue eyes and then took off from the balcony, heading to the Drake around the corner, Jane having left an hour before. 

At a certain point in the evening it had been clear to everyone that the host had used up any interest he had in a houseful of guests and was eager to be alone with the hostess.  BY and Thor were just more oblivious to the wants of others than most, if for different reasons.

Nora was proud of him.  Loki had lasted until after midnight before getting  _ that look _ , which meant it was time for everyone to go home.  

She had seen it across the room where he was standing by the fireplace talking with Mr. Choe and CiCi.  

Actually, Mr. Choe was just hitting him up for a loan, since he’d already lost his roll in the craps game.  Nora had already given him the fifty she kept in an old coffeepot for emergencies. That old reprobate would never learn that gambling with an ex-spy was a terrible idea.  Amused, Loki just handed him his wallet, which quickly disappeared into his former neighbor’s jacket. The old man then grabbed a bottle of vodka and headed back to the game.

While he talked Loki had been holding CiCi and AJ’s tiny daughter, Micaela, who had fallen asleep against his shoulder.  She tended to follow Loki around whenever she saw him because she had seen him turn into his Jotun form once and thought he was so pretty it made her all kinds of little girl crazy.  

“Princess!” she would shout gleefully whenever she saw him, putting up her arms to be held.  Loki would stare down at her for a moment, then roll his eyes and pick her up, knowing that he had no real choice.

Despite his fondness for Mr. Choe and the New Orleans contingent, his mood had been close to breaking.  He had been charming if not exactly friendly to  _ everyone _ all night.  But when midnight struck she looked over to share a smile with him.  

It was December 21st.

Yule.

Their anniversary, of sorts.

Rather than the heated, seductive look she was expecting he was gazing at her, his mouth slightly open, his eyes enormous and soft, with a liquid glint.  As if he had never seen her before, or was maybe afraid he would never see her again. 

“What?” she mouthed at him, frowning.  

He shook his head, once, his eyes growing stern and looked away.

Had someone said something cruel to him?  Maybe made a joke that he took to heart, since for all that he could dish it out Loki couldn’t always take it.  She looked around the room, trying to find the culprit so she could give them an earful. It wasn’t Choe or CiCi.  Choe and Loki’s interactions were in the nature of fond shit-giving. And CiCi and her wife AJ had more than loved him since he had used a bit of magic to ensure that Micaela was their child biologically in addition to actually.

Thor?  No. The brothers were getting along these days, only snipping and sniping in that normal, sibling way.  With the odd outbreak of seidr or lightning. BY? She was playing craps in the bathroom with Nat, who had already cleaned out Bruce, Kelsey, Dre, and one of the waiters.  Stark? No, he wasn’t capable of getting under Loki’s skin. And Cap would never.

Besides, he had spent most of the night in the kitchen with Mrs. Beekman and Bucky, offering to lend a hand and chatting about old Christmas movies.  Steve was so shy, Nora thought fondly. Still, he had come out and sung “White Christmas” with her, as he promised.

The old office crew would  _ never _ say anything nasty to him…

Thomas hated him, of course, but he was so grateful for Loki’s part in restoring his family to him, after the Thanos’ reversal business that even he had been civil of late.  Either that or fatherhood was mellowing the former crime lord.

She excused herself from Marissa and Maura and crossed the room to him.  “Sorry, CiCi, I need my husband,” she said, handing the sleepily complaining Micaela back to her mother.  Taking Loki’s hand she had led him out onto the balcony. It was too cold outside for anyone but them.

And BY, but she was rolling sevens in the guest room tub at the moment, so she would be interrupting.

“What’s wrong?”

Facing away from her to look at the lake, he did that thing where he fiddled with his own long hands for a moment.  “Why should anything be wrong?”

“I know you, you know.  Something’s  _ always  _ wrong, but that look you gave me-”

He turned and took a step towards her, so they were inches apart.

“Nora,” he whispered against her neck, placing a tender kiss where her throat met her shoulder, nuzzling the spot and wrapping his arms about her, pulling her against him and slowly tightening his hold, gasping lightly as he held himself back from squeezing as hard as he could, as he clearly wanted to.  

“Hey, hey,” she put her hands on his back, “I know…”

Since she had recovered from the Snapture, or whatever you would call having been being blinked out and your very existence reversed, he had these moments.  Moments where he seemed entirely overcome by the very sight of her. Moments where he was remembering… whatever it was he had experienced when she had gone, since he never told her and she couldn’t quite bring herself to pressure him into talking.  As if he thought saying the words would undo everything and she would be gone again.

“I think it’s time to start closing down for the night,” she said.  “All our deadbeat friends have drunk enough of our booze, eaten us out of house and home, sung off key...”

“Taken each other’s money.”

“Exactly.  But next year, you’re doing it,” she kissed his cheek.

Loki pulled up straight, looking down at her with his haughtiest, darkest look, “Never, treasure, not even for you.”

She nodded, smiling, “Oh yes, next year.  I’ll get Thor to sing Heat Miser’s part, it’ll be cute.”

With a snort of disgust he slid open the balcony door, letting in enough cold air to send a message to the party goers.

Now they were finally alone, Charles having gratefully accepted his early holiday gift of the addresses of two serial rapists and a child pornographer who he was off to have for his Christmas feast, and Mrs. Beekman having returned to her suite at the Four Seasons.  

Loki sat on the couch, the room only lit by the fireplace and the lights from the tree.  Just like that other December 21st. Their first time...

His legs were spread wide and he made a beckoning motion with his finger, a dirty, commanding half smile that would brook no argument crossing his face, “Come sit, my wife.”

Nora stepped out of her heels, picked up the whiskey she had just poured and drank it while staring into his eyes as she crossed the room to him.

He was so beautiful.

She would have loved him if he was boringly plain or gloriously ugly.  She loved him as an Aesir, as a Jotun, as a male, a female, and that one time when it had been hard to tell what he was.  But he was beautiful and sometimes she just wanted to enjoy it. The dark gleam of his long hair as it fell over the white shoulders of his dress shirt.  The emerald glow of his eyes. The perfect angle of his cheek and the breadth of his shoulders and the length of his neck. 

She sat on his lap, tucking her feet up too, leaning her cheek against one of those shoulders.

One of his hands stroked up and down her spine, slowly enough to count each bone, then catching the top of the zipper to pull it down in one pass.  Then he continued, now touching her skin, leaving her with trails of heat and cold from his touch. 

Nora loosened his tie, then nimbly took it off, so she could unbutton the top of his shirt and press a kiss to the hollow his his throat.  He wrapped an arm about her so he could move her to straddle him. “I want to make love to you all night, wife. I want to take you to our bed to stroke and lick each part that I know makes you wiggle and writhe and sigh.  The small of your back. The shell of your ear. The arch of your foot. Your exquisite cunt. I want to hold you on the knife’s edge of pleasure for so long that you forget that you have ever been anywhere else. But first, I need you to fuck me.  I need you to put me in you and hold me there and own me.”

With shaking hands, Nora unbuckled his belt, then pulled it free with a loud, snapping noise, tossing it across the room to join his tie.  Her fingers, now thick and fumbling with her eagerness to do what he needed, what she needed, took so long to unbutton him as he simply sat and waited, his hands on her hips, his penis throbbing and surging when she brushed it as she worked him free. 

His cock, long and ready, sat her hand and she had to pet it just a little first.  Because she loved to touch it and feel how iron hard he was for her always, how hot it was, how it would leap and weep gently just for her.  So she could see his perfect jaw grow tighter and tighter, how his head would fall back, eyes closed, his mouth slightly open with his jaw jutting just a little.  How his hands would tighten and loosen on her, trying not to lift her, to move her, to make her take him right then.

Scooting back so she was barely perched on his knees, Nora bent forward and softly kissed the head, running her lips over it and licking it clean of that touch of wet, the taste and smell of her husband making her cunt throb in time with his cock, aching for him.

Loki’s hips arched up, as did his neck, offering itself to her.  His eyes opened and he glared at her from over his cheekbones, willing her to mount him.

Moving back, pushing her soaked panties to the side, shuddering a bit as her fingers grazed him, Nora poised him at her entrance and slowly sank down, taking him inch by inch as he clawed at her sides, until she was flush with him, full, and began to rock back and forth.  

Now her eyes fluttered closed so she could feel more.  The length of him within her, still after years almost more than she could take, with just the tiniest bite of pain where he ended in her, the feel of his narrow hips grinding against the tender inside of her thighs, the need for more and more as her clit stroked on him.

Moving his hands so they wrapped about her ribs, Loki angled up and pulled her backwards so within her his cock rubbed where she needed him.  Their sounds - her sighs and his growl, guttural and gasping - braided in the air. Now holding her with one hand, he started to rub her clit in soft, teasing circles that he loved to use to make her wild.

Soon she thrashed upon him, squeezing him with her long legs, with her cunt, with her hands holding his shoulders, gasping, “I can’t-”

Loki pulled her forward, so she lay against his chest, and he undulated his hips under her and he moaned out to her, “Come all over me, princess, treasure, my love, my wife.  Use me for all of your pleasure and leave me spent and empty beneath you…”

His words, his deep, devastating voice coiled through her and vibrated along her nerve endings, pushing her over the edge as she contracted about him, her mouth finding his, so she cried out into it.  He swallowed her pleasure and his own burst from him with a strangled sound of joy.

Wrapping his arms all of the way about her, he carried her down to lay on the couch beneath him, still deep in her, covering her, laughing helplessly in happiness as she sang, exhausted and breathless, “Merry Christmas baby… Sure do treat me nice…”

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> The song Nora sings is by the incomparable Otis Redding - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rEyV8gnC4aQ


End file.
